The Victor Who Knew Too Much
by lovejag
Summary: Based on a true story. What happens to Victor when he gets the opportunity to see a concentration camp.


  
"The Victor Who Knew Too Much"  
by Rita Widmer  
  
  
Dedicated to professor/advisor Dr. Edward N. Peterson and his friend who   
lived this story. Also dedicated to all who suffered through the   
concentration camps. Also to all my online WENN friends who are Jewish.  
  
Dr. Peterson lived in Germany after the Second World War as a member of the   
U.S Army when they occupied it, and spied on the Russians after the war.   
During the war he was stationed in France, and spent his first days at the   
frontlines on Christmas Day, 1944. He is married to a German lady who grew up   
during the time of Hitler's rule. He has written six books about his   
experiences including a book called Limits of Hitler.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Rupert Holmes, AMC, and the actors who  
play them. The story idea belongs partly to Dr. Peterson, and partly to me.  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Victor sat at the bar with a beer in his hand. He hated playing Jonathan   
Arnold; but knew he was doing very important work for England. He thought   
about the task facing him tomorrow. He was scheduled to tour a concentration   
camp. He took another drink from the stein and thought about  
everything he had heard about them, but it didn't help.  
  
Very little was known about the camps. But as an American traitor, the   
Germans were willing to show off their higher plan for society. It was made   
clear to Victor that none of what he saw was to make it to the airwaves, but   
that was fine with him. He had other plans for what he learned.  
  
Little did they know that he would be giving the information to the English.   
He ignored the constant thought that if anything he learned tomorrow leaked   
out it could mean a slow, painful death for him.  
  
He finished his drink, and paid for it. A very dangerous project; somehow   
made easier by the thoughts of Betty suddenly filling his mind.  
  
***********************************  
  
Victor's alarm went off, and he groggily stepped out of bed. He was not   
looking forward to this. There was a knock on the door, and he went over to   
open it. In the doorway stood an SS man.  
  
"Are you ready yet, sir?" asked the man.  
  
"Just a few more minutes," Victor answered. At least he spoke English.  
  
The train trip was long and hard. Victor's legs were too long to fit anywhere   
comfortably. He had been warned not to ask any questions. So he decided to   
take a nap.  
  
The train came to a stop, and they were finally there. After they got off the   
train the SS man disappeared. Quickly he was replaced by a new SS.   
  
"Welcome, sir," said the man in German. Victor just nodded in agreement.   
They drove off in a car, and a half an hour later they arrived at the camp.   
A tower loomed over them, and barbed wire surrounded the camp.  
  
His driver talked with another SS man, as Victor waited in the car. He looked   
around; mentally noting the guard dogs, and the soldiers carrying guns.  
  
He was interrupted by the new SS officer, "I hope today will bring you   
valuable information on our camp. We will show you all the important places."  
  
"Thank you," said Victor in reply.  
  
They first place they visited was the living quarters of the workers. The   
barracks were empty as everyone was out in the fields. Bunk beds built three   
units high lined the walls. The bedding was made out of hay, with only one   
sheet. There was no privacy for anyone.  
  
Most of the tour was only some Nazis offices, and nothing worthwhile, but at   
the end of the tour he was taken out to the fields. He had only seen a few   
prisoners along the way. Ahead of him was a ditch for something he didn't   
know, with hundreds, maybe thousands of prisoners working in it. Men and   
women of all ages were nothing but skin and bones; their clothing hanging   
loosely on them.  
  
"Would you like to see something?" asked the SS man. Victor didn't answer,   
and the man took it as a yes. The man flicked his cigarette over the fence.   
"Come here!," the man yelled at one of the prisoners. The prisoner was barely   
over twenty years old, if that. "Go fetch my cigarette  
over there on the other side of the fence."  
  
The boy looked at Victor for help. He hoped that the man could do something.   
Ever since he got there he had never seen someone out of uniform before. He   
knew that no matter what he did he would die. Victor wanted to help, but knew   
that it would kill them both, and none of the information would ever get to England.  
  
The boy headed towards the fence. A shot rang out and the boy flew up against   
the fence, dead. The man said aloud, "dumb Jew, should have known better then   
to try and escape."  
  
Victor was surprised at the cruelty of the statement. How could anyone do   
such a thing to another human? He was shown out of the camp, and headed back   
to Berlin. That night he tried to reach his correspondent, but he was nowhere   
to be found. Victor tried to reach someone higher up, but he didn't get a   
response back. He tried to sleep, but kept having nightmares of the scene.   
He didn't know it then, but his own life was just as much in danger as the  
boy he saw killed that afternoon .  
  
*********************************  
  
The next morning, he headed to work to find his boss waiting in his office.   
He knew something was wrong when he also saw two men standing next to the   
desk.  
  
"Victor Comstock, welcome to Berlin. That is your real name, isn't it?" said   
the boss.  
  
"No, sir. It is Jonathan Arnold," Victor replied, hoping he could convince   
the man.  
  
"Calling me a liar. Not a good thing to do. You better behave, or your   
correspondent will be killed."  
  
Victor didn't say anything; too afraid of what would happen. The boss   
continued to enjoy Victor's silence. "We have a job for you to do back in the   
United States. Just like you we have a 'traitor' to the Third Reich. You   
used to work at a place called WENN, correct?"  
  
"There are no traitors at WENN, sir. They have nothing to do with me. Leave   
them alone."  
  
"Again, Mr. Comstock. One time I can deal with, but twice is too much. These   
two men will just have to teach you a lesson."  
  
The two men came at him, and Victor tried to use his boxing knowledge, but he   
wasn't strong enough to take both. When he came to he couldn't remember   
anything that happened.  
He was on the phone, talking with Betty. Her voice was soothing to him, and   
seemed to be reaching some part of him that he had almost lost. He hoped she   
would be able to save him.  
  
He walked down the corridor at WENN, just being there soothed him. It had been   
a long time since he was there, and he missed it very much. He walked into   
Studio A. Betty stood there, and with happiness and relief pouring over him   
he spoke first, "Hello Betty. I'm home."  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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